by T C Archer
Jesse pushed the glasses up and scanned the room. A massive oak desk and two carved guest chairs dominated the left side of the room. The Persian rug reminded her of the one in her grandfather’s dining room. To the right, four armchairs encircled a coffee table. The odor of cigar smoke hung in the air. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined the walls, broken by an eight-by-five-foot, solid wood door. The high ceiling and the corners of the room lay in shadow, revealing the range limit of the UV glasses. Dammit, no computer.
“I’ll take the desk,” Jesse whispered into the mic.
Cole nodded and headed toward the big door. “I’ll comb the bookcases.”
She headed for the desk. The judge had a Tiffany banker’s lamp and hand-carved humidor for his cigars. Only the best for high-paid criminals. Jesse reached into her vest as she dropped to a squat beside the desk, pulled out the air link sniffer and hit the on button. Three lights lit, then two went dark, leaving only the power indicator lit. She glanced over the top of the desk. Cole faced away from her thumbing through books.
Jesse looked back at the sniffer. A second green light now glowed.
The sniffer had located a cell-phone signal.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jesse forced a slow breath in an effort to slow her pounding heart and pushed the sniffer under the desk until it touched the back, then stood. A dozen legal-sized documents were stacked in two neat piles on the desk. She rifled the pages and found common court proceedings. A tug on the top drawer found it locked. She retrieved her lock picks and got to work.
She had the drawer open in fifteen seconds; meanwhile, Cole had worked his way through three of the bookcases. The top drawer of the desk held pens, pencils, and paperclips. Jesse halted. An address book. Adrenaline pumped through her. She cast a glance at Cole. Still busy with the books. She opened the address book to P. No Perez. She set the book on the desk and began snapping photos of each page.
Five minutes later, she was rifling through the bottom drawer when Cole whispered over the radio, “A safe.”
Jesse turned. He squatted before an open cabinet at the bottom of a bookcase. The UV light illuminated a small safe about eighteen inches square. She hurried to the desk and squatted beside Cole. The safe was a low-end Englemier, with a four-tumbler dial lock. She removed her glasses to save battery power, then nudged Cole with her hip. He scooted aside, then she shifted to her knees in front of the safe and rotated the dial two turns right, then two turns left. The mechanism hadn’t been well maintained in the humid tropical climate. The tumblers vibrated under her fingers.
She rubbed her fingers together to get the blood flowing, then pressed an ear to the safe and slowly turned the dial, sensing even before she felt each tic of the tumbler. First three turns to the right, and felt the first tumbler engage. To the left, the drag of the first tumbler gave her hope. She rotated the dial two full turns and missed the second tumbler on the way around. Cole’s warm breath bathed her neck. A shiver raced down her back.
Five minutes later, the last tumbler clicked into place. She looked at Cole and twisted the lever, her gaze locked with his as the door opened without a sound. He gave a nod of appreciation.
Jesse donned the eyeglasses and reached inside. On the top shelf, she found a million in pesos, ten thousand American dollars, a dozen bearer bonds, and a small jewelry box. The bottom of the safe held a stack of expandable legal folders. A folder contained the judge’s will and family birth certificates. She motioned for Cole to photograph the documents. Deeds to his various properties, stocks, more bonds, bank statements and incorporation documents filled other folders. Another ten minutes, and they’d photographed all the documents. Jesse returned the folders to the safe in the order in which she’d found them, closed the door, and spun the lock.
The light from Cole’s glasses flickered, then extinguished. Out of power, and hers were next. She checked her watch. Twenty-seven minutes. They had been there too long.
Footsteps sounded in the hall.
Jesse and Cole shot to their feet. The footfalls stopped at the study door and they exchanged glances. Jesse swallowed the fear that lodged in her throat. Cole dashed toward the balcony doors.
A key jiggled in the door lock.
No time to retrieve the sniffer or lock the desk drawer. She rushed toward the balcony. A loose page fluttered off the desk as she passed.
The doorknob turned.
Jesse dove onto the balcony. Cole eased the door shut and the study light snapped on as they dove for opposite corners of the balcony. She yanked off the glasses and stuffed them in an inside vest pocket. A door closed inside the room. No sound of footfalls on the carpeted floor. She peered through a gap in the curtains. Menendez’s butler, Alfonzo, stood in the doorway looking around the room.
She tensed as his gaze settled on the paper that had fallen to the floor. He walked to the paper, picked it up, then slowly looked around the room before placing it on top of the documents on the desk. Jesse’s heart pounded. Had she closed the desk drawers? She had pushed the sniffer under the desk against its back wall, but if Alfonzo stepped left, the green lights might catch his attention.
He took three steps to the coffee table and reached inside his breast pocket. Jesse unsnapped the safety strap on the Beretta at her hip, then paused when he produced a white handkerchief. In what appeared to be an automatic reaction, he picked up the ashtray, stepped to the desk and dumped ashes into the trashcan beside the desk, then began polishing it. His gaze swept the room.
Jesse’s mouth went dry. He knows.
Out the corner of her eye, she saw Cole motion to leave. She shook her head, then returned her attention to Alfonzo as he set the ashtray on the coffee table. He headed for the balcony doors. She pulled back against the wall. A second later, the door handle jiggled.
Jesse swung her gaze onto Cole. He gripped his gun with both hands, the weapon pointed skyward beside his head. Now, who was the one ready with guns blazing? The door handle stilled. Jesse counted off ten seconds before the room went dark. The study door closed with a soft click.
She glanced at Cole. He held up a fist and nodded at the balcony doors. He was right. Alfonso might still be in the room. She nodded, then pressed the talk button on her watch. “Twenty-three, forty-two,” the watch cooed into her earpiece.
Jesse pulled back against the wall. Time for the guard to make another round. She caught Cole’s attention, pointed to her watch, then down at the ground. He melted back into the corner and they waited. The guard came and went. No one burst from the study. Her heart slowed.
“Let’s move out,” Cole said.
Jesse shook her head. She pulled the glasses from her vest. “We didn’t find anything. I have to finish the desk.”
She started to turn, but Cole grabbed her arm. “I don’t like it.”
“You forget, I’m Blue Team, covert-ops. This is my expertise.”
He didn’t release her.
“This is our only shot.” She put the glasses on. “I’ve got a few minutes of power left and I’m not leaving until I’ve found what I’m looking for or run out of juice.”
He hesitated, then nodded.
Jesse unstrapped her Beretta and pulled it from the holster, then nodded. Cole slid his plastic card between the doors. She held her breath in the seconds it took him to disengage the lock. When he soundlessly eased the bolt back and inched the door open, she stepped inside, weapon ready. The glow from her glasses swept across an empty room.
“All clear,” she whispered. “Wait outside.”
He stepped onto the balcony, leaving the door open.
Jesse reached for the door and started to close it, but Cole stopped it an inch from the latch. She released the handle. Insisting he close it all the way would rouse suspicion. She took a step toward the desk. Light flickered and her glasses shut down, plunging the room into total darkness. Damn. So much for searching the rest of the desk.
Jesse took two steps, felt the desk with an outstretched han
d, then eased around to the front. Sliding her Beretta into its holster, she knelt in front of the desk. Three lights glowed green on the sniffer. She snatched the device, opened the lid. A single phone number glowed on the display. She memorized the number, then hit the reset button, clearing the screen. Maybe her gamble had paid off.
The study door swung open with a bang. The light snapped on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Jesse jerked her gaze to the guard standing in the doorway as the balcony door struck the wall with a crash. She reached for her weapon. The guard’s eyes widened in the instant before he swung an AK-47 in her direction. She ducked and rolled. Cole fired. She rebounded to her feet, Beretta aimed at the doorway. The guard went down, but another filled his place. She fired and the second man crumpled against the doorjamb.
“Go!” Cole shouted, and backed up a step.
Jesse sprinted toward the door. A shot fired and the sniffer flew from her hand. Her wrist wrenched from the blow. Pain raced up her arm. Cole fired three shots into the hallway as cover. A bullet whizzed past her ear as she dove onto the balcony.
“Move!” she shouted, and leaped to her feet.
She bounded four paces and vaulted the rail. A second of weightlessness, then impact with the ground, and she rolled. Cole landed beside her. Shouts sounded overhead as she sprang to her feet. A guard appeared at the balcony railing. She shot twice at him, saw him topple over the railing, and sprinted toward the trees. Cole fired twice. A single, wide search beam split the darkness above them.
Booted feet pounded pavement amid shouts of “Hondole, amigos, Vamanoos!” as they headed across the open grounds.
Jesse pumped her legs faster. Ahead, the floodlight illuminated the west wall and raced along the perimeter. If they went over the wall where the light had already passed, they’d make it. Outside lights lit the hacienda like a refinery.
The spotlight swung onto the ground on an intercept. Fear twisted her belly. A machinegun erupted from the north side of the hacienda. Jesse glanced left. Armed men poured from a doorway. She tore her attention from the men and back onto the spotlight. Two seconds until intercept. They would never make the wall under the cover of darkness.
“Amanda,” she choked.
A hand unexpectedly seized her arm, and yanked her back against a hard body as the beam of light cut across the grass in front of them. Jesse registered Cole’s warmth an instant before he shoved her forward and sprinted for the wall. She stumbled, then righted herself, spurred on by the rat-a-tat-tat of AK-47 fire ripping the ground to the right.
Light sliced into the darkness on the wall ahead of where the gunfire had hit. She and Cole made the wall and slammed their weapons home. Cole threw his shoulder against the wall, cupping his hands. Jesse stepped into his intertwined fingers in simultaneous motion with his shove upward. She caught the wall and pulled herself up despite the pain in her wrist. Cole leaped up, grabbed the ledge, and pulled himself to the top. They dropped side-by-side to the ground outside the compound.
Jesse scanned the area. No guards outside the wall. Yet. Over the shouts from the compound, the creak of the west gate warned her they only had seconds to reach their vehicle. She raced forward, Cole alongside. A moment later, they plunged into the jungle. Only thin light from the moon penetrated the canopy. Jesse slowed, reaching out to Cole as she pulled a compass from her vest. She pressed the light button.
“Turn right,” she ordered, and veered in that direction.
They had put thirty meters between them and the compound when the howl of dogs rolled through the jungle.
“Damn,” Jesse hissed.
“Move,” Cole ordered.
The barking became abruptly louder and she knew the dogs had cleared the compound walls. She and Cole covered another twenty meters. If they didn’t reach the Harvester soon, the dogs would catch them. She glanced at Cole. His arms worked at his sides, but she could tell he was holding back.
“Go on ahead,” she panted.
They burst through a line of elephant’s ear.
He kept pace with her.
“Cole.”
“I won’t leave you,” he said without turning his head.
“Start the Harvester,” she ordered. “I’ll be ten seconds behind.”
He didn’t reply.
She’d be damned if the remaining team member got himself killed on her account.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jesse whirled in the direction of their pursuers.
Cole grabbed her arm. “You stay, I stay.”
The heat of his fingers penetrated her cotton sleeve.
“I know what you’re doing, Jess.”
The guards’ shouts and dogs’ barks drew closer.
“Damn you.” She lunged toward the Harvester. “Move!”
He caught up with her. “They’ve got five dogs on our tail.”
“Yep.” Jesse jabbed the compass light. They were heading too far north. “Angle left,” she said. Foliage thrashed twenty meters behind them. A dog growled so close behind, she nearly whirled in anticipation of attack. “We’re not going to make it.”
“Sound carries,” Cole said. “We’ll make it. Twenty more meters.”
They crashed from the jungle into full moonlight. The Harvester sat ten meters away. A dog shot onto the road behind them. Cole whirled and fired. Jesse tensed in anticipation of the dog’s high-pitched yelp, but heard nothing.
“Get in!” Cole shouted.
She yanked open the door and dove into the backseat as he fired another shot. He jumped into the driver’s seat, rocking the vehicle. The lead dog streaked forward as Jesse slammed her door. She startled at sight of the animal. Cole had shot to scare the animal!
The Harvester roared to life and lurched forward, throwing her against the seat. She rebounded, striking her head against the front seat headrest. The vehicle hit a rut and went airborne. She clutched at the headrest, getting a fistful of Cole’s hair. He grunted, but didn’t slow.
Jesse righted herself and twisted in time to see four men emerge from the jungle at a dead run, four more dogs in front of them. She yanked her weapon free and shot out the rear window. One guard halted. She fired again, but missed. He swung a rocket launcher over his shoulder and pointed its wide maw at her.
Shit!
A flash silhouetted him, then a roar followed. A rocket snaked toward them, bright, spinning, fast. Jesse involuntarily ducked. The rocket spiraled past, leaving a trail of smoke. The jungle ahead exploded. The Harvester bucked sideways. A tall palm lurched, toppled slowly over the road. Cole gunned the engine. The Harvester gained speed. The palm accelerated downward. Five meters, three—the Harvester passed under by bare inches. The tree slammed to the ground scraping their rear bumper.
The dogs vaulted the tree, unfazed. One leaped at the truck’s bumper. Jesse flinched at the loud snap of his jaws. She aimed at the guard who had fired the rocket, but at that range, the bucking Harvester guaranteed a miss.
“Damn,” she swore.
More shots. Four bullets pierced the side of the Harvester behind her door in quick succession. Jesse ducked, shouting “Cole, get a move on!” but they were already turning the bend in the path.
The men disappeared from view. A dog lunged at her window, snapping the air in front of her face. She jerked back as he fell away.
“If we don’t lose the dogs, Menendez’s men will catch us!”
“If I go any faster, I’ll break an axle,” he replied.
Headlights abruptly cut through the foliage behind. Jesse’s breath caught. How’d they get past the tree?
“We’ve got to cut another path,” she said. Another dog leaped at the truck and bounced off. “Menendez must already have a road block somewhere ahead.”
“Probably,” Cole replied, but kept going.
“Cole,” she persisted.
“What do you suggest, Jess? Ten feet off this road and we’ll mire the Harvester.”
“We’ve got another mile bef
ore we reach the main road.” She glanced at her watch. “That’s two point four minutes. Menendez’s men made us approximately two and a half minutes ago. That’s a total of five minutes.”
“Could be a problem,” he agreed.
“We need to lose the dogs.”
“Don’t shoot ‘em, Jess.”
She shot him a dirty look she knew he couldn’t see, and leaned out the passenger window with her weapon. Memory of Lancelot as he lay dying made her hand tremble.
“Dammit,” she cursed, and aimed the weapon a good six inches in front of the lead dog and fired into ground. Two of the dogs yelped and fell back. The trailing headlights cut across the air above the dogs. She aimed high over the closest dogs’ heads and let off another round. One dog veered toward the trees but didn’t slow.
Headlights appeared high over the dogs, then hit the ground. Jesse jerked her aim twelve inches from the nearest paw, and fired. Ground spat up into the fringes of the headlights as they disappeared. A dog yelped, circled, then trotted toward the pursuit vehicle. She aimed between the two remaining dogs and pulled the trigger. They didn’t break stride.
Jesse pressed the light on her watch and checked the time. Half a minute to go. The whir of an engine and sweep of light jerked her attention behind them. A beefed up Jeep Cherokee rounded the corner thirty meters behind.
“Floor this thing!” she shouted.
The Harvester bucked forward. She went airborne and struck her head against the roof. The vehicle bounced right, then hard left, and the thick jungle foliage opened up to the main road. Cole hit the brakes and skidded sideways on pavement. Jesse struck the seatback then the passenger side-door. Cole stepped on the gas. Tires screamed and the Harvester leaped forward. Cole shifted hard into second, and she was thrown back against the seat. She grabbed the armrest and turned to look for the Jeep. The Cherokee burst sideways across the road, and slid sideways into the jungle.
Jesse faced forward “Get the hell out of here!”